Oedipus Fox!
by Incandy
Summary: For Steve Fox, drinks and lust don't mix. No, seriously, they don't. Crack one-shot.


Steve Fox did not particularly like smoky bars.

Unfortunately for him, this is where all the hot chicks tended to hang out. Unfortunately, this was also the bar where Miguel came to get tequila, with his usual parade of girls and women who insisted to tag along. Steve let out a disgruntled sigh as the matador entered at the same time he did every day, sat down at the same barstool he always did, and with the same gaggle of women he always had.

Bloody Mexican-Spaniard, thinning out the herd for the rest of the poor blokes in this joint.

Steve drained his glass of Scotch and set it down with a definitive clack on the wooden bar. It was then when he saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

She was short, slim, and blonde. And apparently, she also liked skin-tight purple outfits.

And she had nice boobs.

Ladies and gentlemen, this chick was a winner.

He waggled his eyebrows and moved over with his sexy-boxer swagger. She had not even noticed Miguel yet, so Steve figured he still had a chance.

She was standing there, eyes narrowing at the bartender, who was delaying bringing her a drink by flirting with some uninterested belly dancer chick. She opened her mouth to sass the bartender when she noticed Steve settle next to her.

"Didn't you already have a seat?" she hissed in a low voice, furrowing her eyebrows at Steve, who put on his suave face, trying to appear unscathed from the remark.

She definitely has some bite, he thought, smirking inwardly. Brilliant.

"A lady shouldn't be in a place like this, right?" Steve rumbled, failing at making his voice go lower and his accent more sophisticated.

Nina snorted, smirking at him. "You're the boxer in the Iron Fist Tournament, aren't you?"

Steve felt something in his chest explode. Maybe it was his spleen or something. He hadn't passed Anatomy class, anyway. Steve ruffled his proverbial feathers.

"The very one. I take it you come to watch me, then?" Steve was beaming on the inside. He actually had a living, breathing fan.

The only way he could die happier is if he won the Nigerian lottery. In fact, he had, but it was taking an extremely long time for his millions to come. He'd sent his thousand dollar deposit by express post weeks ago. Who knew the Nigerians were so inefficient?

"No."

Steve felt something in his chest explode again. It was probably his ego, but again, he couldn't tell where that was in the body to save his life, not passing Anatomy class and all.

The woman would have been rolling around on the floor in hysterics, but that would have cost her serious style points. Nonetheless, watching the boxer wilt in front of her eyes was the greatest thing she had ever seen.

"But I am registered in the Iron Fist Tournament," she said, eyeing the bartender again.

Steve perked up again.

Score.

"Yes, I know exactly who you are." The woman turned and smirked.

Steve puffed out his chest. "Well of course you do. I'm bloody amazing, right? Two blows to the bloke's head and I'm out of there. Boom."

The woman smiled, and the world became ethereal (which of course, is a word Steve did not know the meaning of, not passing English class and all, so he described it in his own mind as "real pretty"). It was tantalizing (another word not in Steve's vocabulary, describing her smile as "real, real pretty") , made him feel as if he were walking on air.

"Yes, you do your best in the ring, I can tell..." she paused, letting her angelic smile turn into a devilish smirk, opening her lips to let one last word pour out of them. "...Son."

Steve's eyes widened bigger than the circumference of the bottle of wine Miguel was sharing with his horde of ladies as the Oedipal realization gripped his body, freezing it in place.

"...Mu- MUM?!"

"That's right, honey. Now be a good boy and go home before Mommy has to slap you for coming onto her."

And with that sentence, our British boxer's ego was completely and utterly destroyed for the very first time.


End file.
